Recreant
by Robbly
Summary: Harry Potter, Recreant, traitor, betrayer, servant of the Dark Lord, sentenced to life in Azkaban. But now he's out and bound to Slytherin's familiar. They're searching for him and only Snape knows some of the truth...
1. Guilty

* * *

_ ** Disclaimer; ** You know what I don't own. _

* * *

  
  
  


** Recreant   
Chapter 1   
By Robbly**

  
  


* * *

  


The minister of magic, Trebax Vafer, stood and walked slowly over to the podium sitting solitary in the middle of the stage. The small mass of reporters did last minute checks on their parchments and note taking quills. The crowd was silent even as magical cameras took photos.

"I am present here today on the 24th of February 2004, to announce the sentencing of one Harry potter. After just over 6 years of deliberation of which the aforementioned boy has spent in Azkaban a verdict on his case has been decided. Questioned under Veratiserum, Mr Potter affirmed his service to Voldermort, his receiving of the dark mark & his participation and part responsibility in the Christmas Eve massacre of 1997 which resulted in the deaths of 2,576 muggle & pure-blooded wizards and the wounding of countless others. Due to this evidence along with many other eyewitness accounts and to an innumerable amount of other information, Mr Harry Potter has been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss to be performed in 3 days."

Smiles of satisfaction rippled through those present. To anyone not holding that same opinion it would be quite disturbing. However people not holding that same judgement of Mr Harry Potter were a rare few and none of which were currently in attendance. 

Various feelings were demonstrated throughout the crowd. One missing however was shock. Shock had passed. Everybody had now accepted the fact that the boy-who-lived had gone to he-who-must-not-be-named. Reasons were absent and therefore caused much contemplation onto why their saviour had joined the dark side but no real explanations had been found. So therefore shock gave way to the many other emotions. 

Relief was shown on some faces; finally this powerful servant of the Dark lord would be rendered harmless to the rest of the wizarding population. Anger, why had it taken so long for a person, even young as he was, who was responsible for such crimes to be punished. Resentment, to the boy who must have really been guilty he really must have committed those horrible crimes, happiness, that Potter was finally reaping what he had sewn. Contentment at revenge achieved for the wrongs done to them. 

As proved the crowd was not very supportive of the mentioned Harry Potter. The once loved wizarding saviour was now a hated outcast among wizarding society. Very little of the wizarding population had not been hurt, through the events blamed on the boy. Many had had relations of friends killed or wounded by the massacre & through many similar attacks led by him. 

A general hostility rippled through the crowd dulled by the sentence. Some felt the sentence too lenient but not much more could be done to a person than a Dementor's kiss.

"However due to his service of the wizarding world while he was a young child Harry has been granted a final wish before his sentence is executed. Given fact the said demand is reasonable and of a peaceful nature."

The minister paused. He knew this would not be taken well.

The crowd's hostility built and adrenaline fuelled anger surged. Why was such leniency being given to such a criminal? Antipathy ruled the present emotions held by the crowd especially by one redheaded man at the back. A doe brown eyed girl tried to grab his shirt but he angrily cast off her hand and strode forward through the crowd. Said crowd parted for him respectfully, they all knew of the unspeakable man. This was Ronald Weasley, the man half-responsible for the capture of the murderer Harry Potter. He was also a prominent Auror responsible for the capture of many, many death eaters. He came forward to the front of the crowd and stood dominantly in front of them. Another blond haired man joined him, the crowd gasped as their two saviours stood in front of them. The other was Draco Malfoy. An unexpected presence at the scene. Draco Malfoy was an unspeakable too. He was not an Auror but held the rights of one. He was the other person half-responsible for the capture of Harry Potter. Malfoy had been a spy for the side of light and had now been recognised for it now the dark lord was defeated. Ron's anger surged as he addressed all present.

"This murderer does not deserve rights. Why do we continue to give them to him?"

The crowd made sounds of agreement

"Why do we give him such leniency for something that he did probably unwillingly while he was too young to know what he was doing?"

The crowd showed more agreement

"I Ron Weasley challenge the sentenc-" 

Draco quickly cast a silencing charm on him, shaking his head softly. Gryffindors just did not have tact. As much as Draco did not mind the boy getting into trouble he would prefer it off a political scene. With more discretion he spoke.

"I understand that you all are upset about the leniency being demonstrated to the convicted murderer Harry Potter."

The crowd agreed with some hesitation, why had this man silenced the other unspeakable if only to agree with his views?

"But in truth he did save the world from Voldermort when he was young. I remember that when the first reign of the dark lord was ended by Potter there was rejoicing, presumably most of you indulged in this. Therefore with some indecisiveness I ask that the boys request be granted as long that it is as said of peaceful nature."

Indecision flew through the air as people remembered how happy they had been when Potter as a child had been the boy-who-lived. They looked towards the minister for magic for specification which he was all too happy to provide.

"Given that the request is **reasonable** and of peaceful nature it shall be granted. It cannot also involve the taking of his own life."

He paused as the crowd restlessly and albeit a bit unhappily agreed. 

"Thank you for your time." 

There was slight applause as he did a slight bow to the crowd and walked off the stage and out of the room. The crowd broke up and the hearing was finished. The unspeakables and the girl gone, only a lone man stood in the corner. A grim look on his face he stood up and slowly followed the others out.

* * *

Ron entered Azkaban. Harry's cell was at the very back. Ron couldn't help but flinch every time he passed a dementor he felt more depressed as he continued. However there was one emotion that surged through him. Rage. Pure uninhabited rage. 

His Auror training was not helping. There was just no way of being prepared for the unhappiness that a mass of Dementors did to a person. When the new minister had come in after Fudge had finally been proved incompetent he had been quickly advised to strike a deal with the Dementors. Trebax Vafer being a much more intelligent individual had quickly followed this advice, it was said he still followed the advice of Dumbledore whom had been returned to his respected state when he had returned half of the Necromancer's pendant in 1997, therefore saving the wizarding world from destruction. The red head slightly wished the deal hadn't been struck. The most pertinent upsetting thought currently in mind was the death of Ginny, his sister through Potter. The betrayer. It just strengthened his rage. 

Stiff movements echoed his thoughts as he strode towards the last cell. He passed Wormtail's cell. The traitorous man was babbling. There were no dementor's outside his cell, there was no point. He was mad. Ron only shook his head and continued walking. 

He slowed as he came near the final cell. The torrent of saddening thoughts hand increased tenfold. This was probably due to the mass of dementors outside his cell. Harry was a exceptionally guarded prisoner. The fact that this security had not changed in the 6 years 2 months and a few days time Potter had spent in the prison said much for his current state. 

Potter was currently curled up in a ball in the very centre of the tiny cell shadows clouding him. The mass of dementors allowed the redhead right up to the bar. As he got closer he heard the words.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried, I really tried. It was too much. I couldn't take it! I'm so sorry." 

Even whispered the remorseful, repentant tone was undeniably clear. This however wasn't caught by Ron's ears as the last 3 words were whispered over and over by the pathetic figure. There appeared to be tear stains over the floor and the rags worn by the tiny figure along with blood stains and the stains most likely from excrement. The smell permeating the general vicinity was utterly repulsive. Bile came up Ron's throat and nausea threatened. Ron hardened himself performing a quick spell with his wand rendering him unable to smell. He looked at the pathetic figure a small feeling of compassion rising quickly quashed by rage, hatred and contempt.

"**Potter**." 

  
  


* * *

_ ** Authors note:: ** This story has been redone with the old name and a new plot that I considered better than my old one. Any former reviewers feel free to protest. I have bad spelling and grammar skills, tell me if I've done something stupid. Email with any comments and questions (robblywoo@hotmail.com). Thanks for reading. _

* * *


	2. Broken

* * *

  
  
**_Disclaimer:_** You know what I don't own   
  


* * *

  
  
  
**Recreant  
Chapter 2  
By Robbly**  
  
  
  


* * *

**"Potter."**

Ron spat out the name like a swear word. The prisoner didn't move.

"You fucking **bastard**."

His eyes paused, narrowed with hostility.

"How fucking could you? You're a fucking half-blood yourself. You killed 2,576 in that fucking massacre alone. You killed **Ginny**."

A scream came from Harry and he scratched at his eyes, his nails left little red lines in their wake. The dementors hungrily moved closer trying to get into the bars. Potter screamed again. Tears threatened the Auror as memories of his sister flooded him but he held them back.

"You killed Ginny, you killed Cho, and you almost killed **Hermione** for fucks sake. She was one of your fucking best friends! You killed **thirty** other Hogwarts students, **eleven** from Gryffindor, your own fucking house Potter. You bloody bastard. You should have been a fucking Slytherin."

A feeble sob came from the wretched figure. 

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He cried out, pain indisputably evident in the boy as he curled up tighter. 

"You should be fucking sorry. That was only in the fucking massacre. You killed **thousands** Potter. You injured thousands more. You're **sorry**? Why don't you goddamn tell that the all your victim's relatives. All their friends, everybody who cared about anybody you hurt. Tell it to the **wall** Potter because that's the only thing that will care. Sorry won't bring them back. Sorry won't numb the hurt. Sorry won't numb the betrayal. **Sorry won't do it** Potter."

Ron was snarling behind his words and Harry was openly crying, his shaking shoulders making the fact all too evident. Small shrieks erupted from his clawed face as memories and visions flooded him. The only thing Ron felt was added disgust and rage. His words quickened openly showing his feelings.

"You know how many people I **mourned** Potter? I mourned the **innocents**. I mourned the victims. I mourned the men, the women, the elderly and the **children**. I mourned the wizards **and** the muggles. I mourned for everybody Potter & there was 1 person I mourned for on top of that. I mourned for **Harry**. The Harry who was my best friend at Hogwarts for 5 years, the Harry who cared for me, who cared for Sirius, for Dumbledore, for Hermione, for Ginny, for Gryffindor, for Hogwarts, for my family, for everybody. I mourned for the **Harry who cared**."

He paused letting his temper dwindle to a state where he was still intelligible. A dangerous calm showed through his tone causing a shudder to flow down Harry's back. 

"But I will never. Ever. Ever. Mourn for **you**."

He gathered his thoughts, through clenched teeth he hissed.

"You know who you **betrayed** Potter? That's right **BETRAYED**."

He took a sadistic pleasure on the remorse and pain emitted by the boy-who-lived, who was currently tearing at his hair as he moaned writing on the floor.

"You betrayed us all. You betrayed Dumbledore, Ginny, Hermione, Me, My mother, my family, Lupin, Gryffindor, Cho, Cedric, everybody at Hogwarts, and everybody who cared for you. Most of all you betrayed **Sirius** & **your parents**. The three of them all **died** for you Harry. We all cared Potter, and you betrayed us all."

He paused again. As more moans and shrieks were emitted from Harry's body. The boy was in a tight curled ball rocking back and forth his teeth clenched tightly babbling, 

"Stop. Please stop. I can't take it. I don't want to remember. I'm _sorry_! Why can't you understand I'm sorry!"

Ron ignored him and continued

"After everything we went through. After **everything**. After the chamber of fucking secrets, after Cedric, after the stupid stone, after your childhood, after your **parents sacrifice**,"

This caused a great cry of pain to rise out of Harry along with a babble of apologetic words punctuated with sobs and shrieks.

"After **Sirius**,"

Another cry of pain followed by yelps came out of the feeble body possessed by the boy who lived now dripping blood in some places.

"After everything everybody has done for you. You **betrayed** us."

Venom thickened his voice.

"You do not know how much I **despise** you Potter."

Ron spat at Harry, as the-boy-who-lived scratched at his scar until the edges of it bled and the entire area was read raw.

"I curse you Potter. I curse the day you were born. I curse the day you first breathed air. I curse the day you survived Voldermort. I curse the day I met you. I curse every time I ever praised you. I curse every second of every time that I liked you. I curse our friendship. I curse ever helping you. I curse every second of every minute of every hour of every day that you keep your evil soul Potter. **I curse you**."

A twisted ironical anger appeared in the eyes of the red head and as if Potter could sense what was going through the Auror's head he shrieked.

"**NO!**"

The prisoner ran to the bars seemingly forgetting the curses on them as he grabbed them. A shock of liquid fire flowed through Harry's body. He shrieked writhing in pain on the floor as a satisfied gleam filled Ron's eyes. 

Harry struggled for breath choking. He coughed clutching his throat as his mouth opened and closed gulping for air he just couldn't take in. Tears streamed from unseeing eyes and agony shot from him in a silent scream. Suddenly it stopped, leaving Potter coughing blood onto the grimy stone floor in its wake.

Harry managed to choke out the words spraying the ground with bloody foam with each sentence.

"Please Ron! No **PLEASE** No! I'm sorry Ron. I just couldn't take it. I couldn't take the pain! I'm sorry! **For the love of God** I'm sorry! I'm sorry... I'm sorry…"

He broke off into sobs his hands stretched out like a plea as he begged on his knees. Ron just sneered and looked straight into the eyes of his former best friends as he slowly said the words

"I, Ronald Bilus Weasley, child of Molly & Arthur Weasley, born March the 1st 1980, former best friend of one Harry James Potter, **sever** all ties held with aforementioned Potter. Any bonds magically created or otherwise I annul knowing the exception being any monetary debts I hold to Harry James Potter. So said so agreed."

He flicked his wand at himself then at Harry. With a cruel smile he muttered,

"_**Abrumpherus**_"

With a discharge of black and blood red sparks the spell was performed. A wail erupted from the boy who lived. Ron just smirked and with a cool distain to the weeping boy in front of him muttered

"Goodbye Potter."

He turned when Harry shrieked out to his back.

"Ron, I'm **sorry**. Please tell them all I'm sorry."

With a snort Ron muttered slowly and carefully enunciating each word;

"_I don't know you._"

He turned and swept away. 

Snape emerged from the shadows as Ron swept away. He had asked a friend at the ministry if he could see Potter & said he would take his final wish. He looked down at Harry.

The boy who lived was currently wailing and bashing his head on the floor, blood oozed from a cut. He collapsed back curling himself up again. He looked at his former best friend leaving tears seeping out of both of his eyes. Snape noticed a huge scratch down one causing the tears coming out to be blood red. Had he looked closer he would have seen the scar connected all the way up to Harry's first lightning bolt scar and proceeded halfway down his cheek. 

Snape almost felt pity for the boy. 

"Potter. I have come to take your final wish. What do you want?"

Harry's voice was horse as he whispered:

"_Forgiveness._"

Snape stopped himself from snorting,only Potter would think that the best thing he could possibly receive in the world would be forgiveness. 

"Potter I cannot give you that. Ask for something reasonable. A cloak, lollies, chocolate, a look at your broomstick, the right to write a letter to someone-"

Harry cut him off with a feeble nod and a moan.

"Letter. Tell them I'm sorry. That I'm so sorry…"

He trailed off bursting into tears once more. Bleeding from a few dozen places the once saviour of the wizarding world curled up the epitome of regret and misery. Silent tears poured their way from blood red eyes. He slumped to the floor. The submissiveness that emanated from his figure showed his entire desire to live gone. His appearance left Snape at only one conclusion;

_The boy who lived was broken._

  


* * *

  
  
__

**Authors note:** Thanks to my reviewers; 

**Gilthas**, - MY FIRST REVIEWER (for this story), congratties, I'll give you a clue. I meant what I said in the summary, veratiserum does not lie. (_p.s. I like your '**3003**' story_)  
**Sarah**, will you now? I'll have to keep updating then. Hope you like this chappy  
**Lanfear1**, - thank'ye for the review, here's the update   
& **Bloody hell** - someone who I'm supposing is a reviewer from an old chapter who is very pissed at me for starting this story again for the 3rd time. I'm so sorry I just keep getting new ideas & then I have to start again cause I didn't like the way I did it last time. I promise I'll keep going this time.

To everyone else. Thanks for reading, & reviews are gleefully welcomed but don't feel pressured into writing them. Hell I know all the times where I just can't be bothered and the writers make me feel all guilty :S. You are free to point out my lack of grammar and spelling. With any extra comments or questions feel free to email them to **robblywoo@hotmail.com**

  


* * *


	3. Revelations

* * *

  
  
**_Disclaimer:_** You know what I don't own   
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
**Recreant  
Chapter 3  
By Robbly**  
  
  
  


* * *

Harry's eyes were red. Streaked with little red lines portraying an anxiety exceeding any amount that one could see portrayed through his face. Itself his face was the epitome of misery.

Harry lay still on the stone floor; he was in too much pain to move. He was paying dearly for Ron's visit. When both Ron and Snape had left Harry had cried himself into oblivion where he had resided for the past 4 hours before he had woken up through another of his memories. 

His occulumency talents that had developed during his stay as a death eater were suppressed by the complete opening of his mind through the dementors. They just barged their way into your mind and then as soon as all those depressing, heart killing, guilt filled memories flooded you, you tend to feel nothing else. Your defences drop and your mind just stays open. Harry had blocked off all the memories. He had sectioned off half of his mind. Then with his being chucked into Azkaban, his mind was opened. All too roughly opened. Being flooded with memories that you have refused to remember is a very 'interesting' experience. Though they forced you to relive your memories, the actual experience is always infinitely more painful. The all too familiar tang of betrayal actually relived was just so much infinitely worse then the day to day monotony of remembrance. Reliving an experience in your head is no where close the equal of an experience. Ron brought it all back. The taste of the betrayal from his friends never ever faded. A re experience was just so painful. Tears all shed out of him, no more left to emit, feelings coursed their way through his body, pain, immense total pain, emotional pain. On a level, he couldn't feel it. Didn't want to feel it. The sheer enormity of it was just too much to feel. But the dementors forced him to feel it. And the oppression of it crushed his pitiful soul. There was only so much that one being can feel though. A little memory flittered through his head.

"One person can't feel all that, they'd explode."

Ron had said once

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have."

Hermione had retorted

However Harry did not have 'the emotional range of a teaspoon' and this memory just sent more & more emotional pain to the rather large load he was carrying. He almost smiled at the irony. Most people came to Azkaban or came into the presence of a dementor and forgot half of their memories, the ones that didn't hurt, the ones that they remembered with happiness and joy. Then again, most of them hadn't felt the bitter suffering of betrayal, where every happy memory became cutting and detrimental to ones happiness. 

Harry tried to roll over and a burning pain shot up his side. His mind found its way back to the physical agony that gripped his every molecule. Hurt throbbed its way through his body. It thrummed from his head ripping its way through his veins. His entire body ached not least of all from hunger. Hunger was one of the worst pains of all. It ripped its way from your gut, and little visions of food danced like mirages in front of you at the worst moments. It wasn't that the prisoners weren't fed, but Harry had still been growing when he arrived at Azkaban & he had been starved before he even reached the depraved cell in which he resided. Also half the time Harry was in no condition to retrieve the shit he was given. Most of all he was a prisoner, and like prisoners deserve the best of cuisine. They were lucky to receive slops. However Harry's head was his most felt anguish entertaining his torture-filled world at the moment and though the bleeding from his most prominent cut had stopped, he felt very woozy from loss of blood. 

He was too busy concentrating on the anguish of his emotional, mental and physical state to notice Severus Snape walking up to the bars of his cell. Resonant pounding originating from his head was echoing through his ears anyway. The ex-potions professor cleared his throat.

The delicate noise brought Harry off the brink of sliding into an emotional abyss where the only thing that mattered was a way to end the pain. In other words, Harry was inches away from walking the paved road to insanity in the hell of Azkaban. 

Harry looked up through bleary eyes.

The man who loathed him stared back, and any other person would have jumped from the sheer amount of pure pain emanating from the child's face. Snape called the person before him a child. He had once called him an adult, as he concurred that Harry had been responsible for his actions, testifying to the young mans guilt, but now, the broken thing in front of him had the emotional and almost physical state of a child. He was so small so shrunken and his emotions were so simple, so blatantly clear that they could only be called childlike. His verbal outbursts only contributed to the outward appearance. In fact the only thing that made Harry not as childlike as he seemed was the different types of pain he beared. His thought complexity regarding the pain he carried could only be called that of an adult, in fact surpassing that of an adult. Snape was stuck at indecision. The same argument that had racked his mind ever since the boy had joined Voldermort. He should look into the boy's mind. Vital information may be there. He almost snorted at his own stupidity; his reasoning seemed hollow even in his own mind. It was pure curiosity. The potions master was so tempted by the knowledge that sat so close in front of him. An understanding of the boy he hated sat right there so easy to take. Snape checked the wards on the bars, all too easy to disable. He disabled them and froze for a moment. He shouldn't do it. His revenge had been taken on the boy already, 6 years in Azkaban was more than enough punishment for anything. Also the dementors kiss in 3 days was more than Snape could ever have asked. His wand was pointing at the pitiful figure less than 2 meters away. He could resist no longer. Snape whispered the words.

"_Legimens_"

Snape physically stumbled at the onslaught. A huge bundle of memories literally threw themselves at his mind. How could Potter carry all this Snape wondered? He saw memories of Harry's time at Hogwarts, he saw what anybody else would count as happy memories, and tasted the assault of betrayal upon his senses. He saw memories of what people had given up for the small boy and then the self disgust at what Harry felt he had done to them in return. He saw once again the pain of the death of Harry's godfather and the guilt and responsibility the stupid boy felt for it. He saw the look of betrayal in the eyes of the last mauderer, Remus Lupin, at Harry's trial. Then he saw the hatred and blame erupting from the others. From those whom Harry cared for and loved; Ron, Hermione, Remus, Dumbledore, many of the Weasleys, Hagrid, Minerva, and last of all Himself. Harry was upset over his disbelief in the boy's innocence? More memories filled with emotional turmoil flooded Snape's senses but the last one that made Snape stop his spell shocked Snape the most. 

_Harry was at Voldermort's feet. He was kneeling. 7 death eaters stood at his back. Snape recognised them as Voldermort's inner circle minus himself. _

Snape cringed. They were Voldermort's strongest and most powerful followers. The looks on their faces could not mean good things for the boy.

_Harry was panting. The wretched recourses of the cruciatus curse were retching through his throat. A determination was in his mind though. He would not give in. A chuckle came from the dark lord in front of him._

"I sense you are undecided Potter. You want to give in to me but you do not. You know you **must**."

"I do **not** want to give in to you Tom!"

The Gryffindor heritage showed itself. Snape almost snorted. 

_The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed in anger. _

"I told you not to call me by that name Potter! **Crucio**."

Snape watched Potter relive the curse. Mentally he cringed. The boy was so young.

_"Astrangularus"_

A small blue jolt of something that looked vaguely like lightning shot out of the tip of Voldermort's wand and hit him and instantly he was struggling for air. His lungs felt entirely empty and it he thrashed on the floor. Ironically the vague thought he must look like a dying fish crossed his mind. Coupled with the agony of crucio it felt like dying. White hot metal flooded his veins, knives drove themselves through his skin, his body was being sucked inside out as the air was absorbed from him like a vacuum, his eyes felt like they were being sucked into their sockets and black was appearing at the edges of his vision, his skin felt like it was being flayed off, his nostrils flared seeking much needed oxygen, the wanted end was close, he saw death but a few centimetres away and reached pathetically towards it, his nostrils flared, his organs were burning, his brain was in a vice, he was being squeezed, stretched, pain, pain, pain…

"Finite Incantatum" 

A chuckle was the first thing Harry heard as he sucked huge amounts of lungs at a painful rate. It burned the entire way down and his throat and lungs spasmed painfully. Shudders wracked his body from the pain. His limbs ached, he felt super cool inside, pain continued.

Snape frowned; Harry was supposedly a willing servant to he-who-must-not-be-named. This punishment was something the Dark Lord had never done to him. The slight empathy the legiments spell allowed him made Snape very thankful he hadn't.

_"Potter. I see you need more 'motivation'. Your **love**,"_

He spat out the word like it was the most evil thing in the world.

"that your stupid fool Dumbledore prizes will not let you refuse me. I will save him as a part of my half of the bond. Watch."

Harry still lying on the floor froze as the Dark Lord waved his wand and flash of white light shot at the boy. Harry immediately took on the personification of somebody else.

Harry saw through other eyes. 

He was kneeling. Kneeling before Voldermort in the Riddle House, in the same room he had killed that muggle, the same room of Harry's vision…

Snape froze. The surroundings were all too familiar. He stiffened further as he remembered. It was the night he had been declared a traitor. The night Voldermort had left him to the whims of his servants, then had taken Severus himself. Snape stiffened further. 

"No" he whispered, choking out the word.

_The body Harry inhabited looked up; Voldermort was standing gesturing to his followers, declaring that Severus Snape was a traitor. Snape saw Harry freeze. No he was telling himself, No, Voldermort could not know Snape was a traitor, he would kill him. No Harry was in something akin to panic. _

Snape couldn't bare it. His eyes were tightly shut, tears seeped out. Suddenly he felt something like a door slam shut on his invading mind. His mind rejoiced at the freedom, taking in huge gulps of oxygen as he leant onto the wall, berating himself for not ending the spell. Had he the sense he would have ended the spell just as the memory started. He couldn't live through the boy's panic, he reasoned but realised again the hollowness behind his own excuse. It was nothing to do with the boy, he himself was too weak. He couldn't relive his own worst torture. He couldn't relive what Voldermort had let his fellow death eater's do to him. He recognised the spell and almost vomited as he realised that Harry would have the physical remnants of his own torture. He himself froze as he realised the boy had felt the pain and humiliation of repeated non-consentual sodomy along with the many other horrors that had been committed against his pale flesh. He realised the boy had felt the brink of insanity, the pain that he himself had to bear. He realised that Harry had probably relived it many times during his stay. Snape was stunned, had he been anyone else he would have stood gaping but his spy created mask stayed over his features. 

Then the most staggering thought hit him and his mask was discarded;

_**Harry had joined Voldermort to save him.**_

  


* * *

  
  
__

**Authors note:** Thanks to my reviewers; 

**Lanfear1**, Why did he do it? Well as you can see that what's coming up, enjoy.   
**Gilthas**, (the muse, & me =D ), Good guessing, well you were kinda sorta right, not really.. Oh well, as you keep reading you'll understand. Am I your best friend? Come on I am aren't I! Please Please! Nah only kidding. Wouldn't want your muse to kill you, or abandon you for that matter. Yeah Ron was mean but Ginny's death kinda hurt him hard so did Hermione's injury and Harry 'betraying' him. So Ron's just kinda retaliating for his pain and the dementors were sending him memories of his most unhappy moments (most likely Harry's betrayal and Ginny's death). So I guess it was kinda justified but Ron did go a bit mad for the time. Your mum was murdered by a dragon? That I have got to hear, tell met the background!  
**Whoa**, Was he forced to do it? Hmm… I won't spoil the surprise but will come up with the most annoying answer all authors give for plot spoiler questions. 'You'll have to wait and see'.  
& **Sarah**, Will do. =)

The quote is from OotP p406. One of my personal favourites.

The spell "**Astrangulus**" comes from my Latin dictionary telling me **Astrangulare** = choke. Dunno. Don't kill me. I don't learn Latin, I learn Ancient Greek :D. I know I know, it's a dead language that no one speaks. SHUDDUP! :P__

Thanks again to anybody else who is reading but not reviewing. Don't feel pressured to review yada…yada… Um yeah… Email me with any comments or questions: **robblywoo@hotmail.com**. 

  


* * *


	4. Will

* * *

  
  
_**Disclaimer:** You know what I don't own_  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
**Recreant  
Chapter 4  
By Robbly**  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
_**N.B.** Thank's to **Gilthas** for Beta'ing this chappy. I really hated it and still don't like it as much as I do the others but it's a lot better for his efforts. (Read his* **3003** story, it's really good) Anyway on with the story._  
  
  


* * *

**_Harry had joined Voldermort to save him._**

Snape fell back against the wall arms splayed out, face the epitome of horror. Snape was shocked. The parchment, ink and quills he was carrying dropped to the floor his wand dangling from one hand. His mind was pounding, one sentence resounding through his senses, Potter joined Voldermort to save him, Potter joined Voldermort to save him…

This wasn't right. He hated Potter, Potter hated him. It was the way things were. Snape had hated Potter's father, Potter's father had hated him. The reasons went further than that but that didn't matter right now. You don't join Voldermort to save the person you hate! Then Snape realised, it had to be Potter's Gryffindor heritage, that self-sacrifice notion that seemed to abound in all their hearts. Combined with Potter's hero complex, there you have the boy's reasoning. A familiar sneer twisted his face.

Deep down though he felt it. It wasn't true. He didn't understand the boy and now he was being forced to admit it. He hated him for all the wrong reasons; he was part of the end product. He was one of the many reasons this had all happened. Coming to this conclusion, the potions master fled. 

Kicking the things he brought into Potter's cell he turned and ran. All dignity abandoned he didn't notice the angry green eyes following his retreat. 

* * *

Harry was angry. Angry & confused. Anger. He hadn't felt the strange emotion in a long time. The only things he had felt were things like self-resentment, guilt, shame & unhappiness. Anger, resentment, blame, he felt like a blind person whose eyes were being opened. With everything else though came other emotions long gone, happiness, joy, amusement, surprise… 

The overriding sense of confusement reigned. What was he doing in Azkaban! Why had he blamed himself for everything for over 6 years and in doing so let everyone else blame him too? But his inbuilt anger surged with that as well. Why had they blamed him? He defeated the dark lord & they chucked him into Azkaban and wanted to give him the dementors kiss!

And then Snape. Oh his anger was building now. Snape the man who hated him so much had come. They had let Snape of all people to come! Snape! 

He was further than angry. He was enraged. He took deep breaths, killing his anger. Using his own version of meditation he suppressed the building rage. The familiar technique brought more memories too. Anger had been something that had helped Voldermort and he had long learned that anger was a thing to be suppressed. 

A few minutes later, his anger gone, emotions suppressed to a totally internal level, an all too familiar mask slipped over his features. The one he too often used before his demise as a death eater. He had won in the end. He had fulfilled the prophesy & now Voldermort lay dead. Still he had been punished for his 'crimes', and was still being punished.

Harry shook his mind away so he could consider his situation. With a small smile Harry felt his occulumency barriers up once more. They had been discarded within his first few months serving Voldermort but not until after he fulfilled his first goal. He had returned half of the magical world's stupid pendant and in doing so saved the entire light side but he doubted anybody would ever realise that. Not that he really cared. He didn't need their pity or their respect right now. He didn't need the only thing they would give him, their hate. He just wanted out and away. He did not want anything to do with him.

Harry looked down on himself with disgust. His guilt and apologies had left him a broken wreck as most likely Snape had seen. He wanted to wrench right into his professors head and get all those memories. How dare Snape invade him at his weakest! Snape ought to have more honour than that. 

Harry growled. He did not want Snape to know his reasons. He could not take one of his worst enemy's pity more than he could take his friend's. Harry didn't want anybody to know his real reasons. He didn't want anybody to know the truth. They did not deserve it. 

On the other hand Snape as well as awakening his mental barriers had awakened the thing that was keeping them up against the ongoing attacks by the dementors standing as his guards. Harry almost groaned, once again his well being was in part the fault of Snape, the man he hated. Snape had reawakened Harry's will. In spite of this he smiled. His will awakened other things too. It awakened emotions long forgotten, desires long abandoned, dreams, ambitions, resentment… among many other things. It was an interesting feeling. His submissiveness gone, the detachment from himself no longer felt, an unquestioning obedience was once again long from his personality. He smiled; it was once again nice to be unique, to have your own views & opinions. It was good to be himself again. 

A small tingle in Harry's fingers made Harry's small smile widen. Magic was half will anyway. Just like everything else. His magic had returned.

Harry felt the confusement fading as he remembered who he was. Well not who he was, that was a really bad way of putting it. More like he remembered the way he used to think, the person Harry used to be before Sirius had died. Not Harry the death eater. Nor Harry the traitor. Harry the normal boy.

Except, he realised with some resignation, he would never be a normal boy. How could he be? He was **Harry Potter**! His tone was definitly bitter. In fact the tense tone of bitterness would pretty much ride his being & would take quite a while to wane. Not that he really cared all that much. Considering the circumstances Harry thought he had every right to be bitter.

His time with his spirit broken seemed more like another person's memory than what he himself had been like for the past six years. Harry smiled again it was good to be himself again, with his own wants and desires. However with his own will back & therefore his opinions & basic own mind Harry would no longer subserviently take everyone else's word as true. Being broken left one at the conclusion that everything was your fault and there was nothing you could do about it. You blamed yourself for everything & therefore everything got you arriving at the same conclusion, you deserved whatever you received. Harry had seen everybody else as right and therefore himself as wrong. He growled at the misconception & at his own too trusting nature. Trust would never come as easily again. Betrayal made it that way.

Having a will made Harry realise that all this was not all due to his own failings. He was not the one at fault. He was not the one that should have to carry this burden. But unfortunately during the years Harry had grown somewhat in maturity & with this he realised that there was some justification for everyone's actions. A small frown creased his forehead, as everything came back. The burden pushed on him by his broken spirit was gone; but now in it's place Harry was now facing the burden of his own life.

Groaning Harry decided all he wanted was to go and live as a hermit somewhere and live his life away doing what he wanted to do. He was no longer the pawn of an almighty prophesy. He was himself. He was not Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He was who he wanted to be. 

Harry looked around his cell and saw the parchment, ink and quills. A jolt of sadness fled through him as he remembered the reasons for his wanting of the items. Deep inside Harry knew there was one thing he wanted. Forgiveness. And Harry wanted it from one person above all the others he wanted it from, but he knew such forgiveness would come with a price. They would want the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. And then if they knew and understood the truth they would give him their forgiveness along with their pity, their pride & most of all their guilt. Harry didn't want that. And then on top of all that they would want him back. 

Harry's mind fought. His heart ached. He wanted their understanding so badly but he didn't want whatever else they would put with it. It was so much easier for them all to hate him, so he could just hate them all back and feel right about it. If they hated him it was so much easier for him to hate them & therefore to never have to face them again. But it all came back to one man. Dumbledore. Much as he hated the headmaster for all he had hidden from him, he finally realised and understood the headmaster's rationale and intentions. Furthermore, as much as he hated to admit it, the headmaster had good motives for what he was doing. He had much motivation. Who didn't have motivation to look after Harry, "the golden child"? The prophesy was only the tiniest part of it. On top of that there was political reasoning, pity, Harry's status in the magic world and so much else to consider. 

Albus Dumbledore had been the only person that accepted and helped Harry for who he was instead of what he stood for. Even Ron had never looked past it & Hermione was a different matter all together. She had been the only other who had accepted him unconditionally but when forced to be the one in the millions who had that opinion she had broken and in the end refused to acknowledge Harry's continued existence. But Dumbledore had hurt more. It was him that had contributed to too much of the breaking of Harry's will. 

Dumbledore had accepted Harry unconditionally. There was just no denying it. He had been the one who constantly looked out for Harry & had realised that Harry was in fact a child & needed to be treated like one. He had accepted Harry's word above all others & had never forced Harry to make a decision to suit his wants and needs. In fact he was the only one who had tried and understood Harry's teenage emotions. The only thing he had ever let override his unconditional belief in Harry's intelligence, power & will was a sort of protective love for him. Despite everything Dumbledore had acted in Harry's interests foremost. In fact he was one of the very few reasons Harry had not received the dementors kiss as of yet. 

Harry sighed. He really did have a need for forgiveness most of all from Dumbledore & he knew what he would see if he looked into the Mirror of Erised right now. He shook his head, "_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_". I show not your face but your hearts desire. He snorted. He seemed to have a knack for remembering the most inconsequential things. 

He really did want forgiveness though and he knew no matter how much he protested he would write to Dumbledore and plead with him for forgiveness or at the least a smidgen of understanding. First though, Harry wanted out. He couldn't plead for forgiveness if he was dead and he did not plan to write his letter from the floor of the hell-pit he was currently residing in. He looked up at the bars, brow slightly creased, they were missing something, they just didn't feel the same as they had for the last six years.

"Ahhh…" 

Harry said softly and smiled, Harry had taken the spells & wards off the bars to use '_legimens_' on him and had forgotten to put them back on when he fled. That was something he hadn't expected; Snape turning on his tail and fleeing. He snorted again. 

How was he going to get out? Harry pondered the question for a second his mind resting on his Godfather's solution to the same problem. 

**_Animagi_**

He frowned. His Animagus form that he hated so would never fit through the bars. Actually he didn't hate it so much now. Voldermort was dead and in being so his first form had lost the symbolism that made it so resentful to Harry. He pondered on his second form though. He had never taken it. It was another legacy of his mortal enemy on him, just like the parseltounge talent that had branded Harry as evil so many times. 

He frowned. He didn't really care now. Who cared if he had the same 'evil' animagus form as Voldermort? Everybody thought he was evil already. He smiled though. Though the form was naturally big Harry was very thin right now and the lack of nourishment would make him quite a thin creature. 

With a small mischievous smile Harry started to transform.

* * *

A short while later a large pure black basilisk slid out of the Azkaban prison and off into a nearby forest in the darkness, parchment, quill's and ink resting on its smooth back. Two days later when 10 Auror's along with the minister for magic came to collect Harry James Potter to receive the dementors kiss they would find themselves missing along with their prisoner the 10 dementors that guarded his cell. Harry had been hungry.

  


* * *

_**Authors note:** WHO LIKES HARRY'S ANIMAGUS FORM!!!!... Ehem… Anyway…_

I love all of my reviewers. =) I swear when I saw how many reviews I had I almost burst up and did something akin to a happy dance before… yeah… people watching… :$ Anyway thanks heaps to all of you, you guys are what keeps me writing :D.

**Ranchan17**, :) glad you think it's great, here's the next chappy.  
**Harry-Potter-Rule**, You haven't posted your Azkaban story yet :( I'm looking forward to reading it. Glad you love my story :). I'm touched that you found it so emotional I was on the verge of making somebody come out and slap Ron, maybe a dementor, that's a bit out of character for them but hey he deserved it. Anyway Ron's just portraying the general view of Harry possessed by wizarding society. To put it simply, they hate him. He did go a bit over the top but that's what dementors do to people & Ron responds to every threat throughout all the hp series with anger. It's part of his character. Here's the next chappy :). Enjoy.   
**Loli**, Glad you like it, Here's the update  
**Gilthas**, Aw I promise it wasn't only to save Snape. Harry wasn't very close to Snape but Snape has done stuff to help him even though Harry hates admitting it and he doesn't really deep down want Snape killed. As Voldermort was telling Harry, he could tell Harry was wavering & he needed extra motivation to make his decision. Snape was sorta the bargain closer. Anyway thanks for yet another long interesting review I love reading them. Anyway about Snape being able to prove Harry innocent, he's not going to do that quite yet as you might have guessed. Snape has a conscience and little set of feelings like the rest of us bastard or not and he's confused, shocked, upset and even a little guilty. He's struggling with the concept of Harry doing anything to help him and he doesn't understand Harry at all. He's really confused about his feelings cause he kinda feels some weird connection with Harry as they both made the same mistake – becoming death eaters, but he's finding out there was more to it than that and as I said he's confused. In fact you're probably confused by now. I'm so confused about you two now though. You're elvan, human & dwarfish? I'm so lost, :) but in a good way. Sounds like you got an interesting history. Here's the update.  
, :) here's the update.  
**Ocpawnmaster1**, So many people ask me that question! Is Harry guilty? Sorry but I still got the same answer. I mean what it said in the summary. "Innocent? Guilty? Or Both?" :D Anyway I'll just leave you pondering my ramblings. Here's another update.  
**Sarah**, Did it really come off like a slash? I seriously didn't mean for it to come of like that. I don't think Harry is in any position for love right now, and this story is really not going to be a Harry/Snape slash… well at least I don't plan for it to be. My stories kinda half write themselves though so if it goes that was so be it. But chappy 3 was in no way the start of Snape loving Harry. In fact Snape's just shocked, I think he'd just be so scared by the thought of what he has done he'll just be meaner to Harry. I dunno. I'll see what he does when I write it. At the moment Snape is just shocked, he's believed like everyone else that Harry has joined Voldermort of his free will and has turned against the light side. He kinda feels a sort of pity for Harry because in a way Harry made the same mistake he did – joining Voldermort, but as I said now he's just kinda confused. He feels that he doesn't really have to be as mean to Harry because 6 years in Azkaban is seriously enough punishment for anyone, especially with the Dementors kiss but he is in no way falling in love with him. I'm sorry if I made it sound like that, tell me what made it sound like that and I'll try and fix it.  
**Padfootsnoxed**, I guess the intro is a bit sad isn't it. That's where the angst genre goes I guess. Anyway I don't think you read the third chappy yet or maybe you did… I dunno. Read it if you haven't. Ron was being bitchy but he's just reacting to his feelings. He's getting all these memories from the Dementors of all the saddest points of his life, getting the whole 'I'm never going to be happy again' vibe and he's reacting with the typical Ron emotion, anger. Anyway he's really upset over Ginny because she was the only sibling younger than him and he was kinda protective over her and Ron doesn't like being 'ickle Roniekins' or whatever, he likes not being the youngest and he was just the whole elder brother thing. I dunno that's a really bad explanation. Yeah Ron's blowing it a bit over the top but you have to consider his surroundings… Also I'm just a bit of a dramatist & I'm just trying to portray the general social view of enmity towards Harry.  
& **Imaginable**, *snickers evilly* I love all those moral questions. But I promise saving Snape wasn't Harry's only motivation. Harry's doesn't like Snape enough for him to let it justify him having to kill thousands of people

*I'm assuming you're male, well at least I know your muse is male unless you can have a female prince :S. Anyway yeah, um, just tell me if I guessed wrong and I'll change it :).

  


* * *


	5. Trials

* * *

**_Disclaimer:_** You know what I don't own

* * *

**Recreant  
Chapter 5  
By Robbly**

* * *

_**N.B.** Thank's to **Gilthas** for again Beta'ing a chappy :). He read both the second and third copy (this is the third) and believe me the other two were... Ehem. Yeah anyway, gilthas is responsible for any good spelling/grammar in this chappy (my English skills suck) and yeah? thanks._

* * *

There, as he looked through the morning mists, Harry could see the castle. The all too familiar places, the things he had remembered and missed so much for so long. The place he had called home for the entirety of his life even now he still called it home. It was the home to which he could never return. He had in a way been exiled. 

He saw somebody arising for a morning run. Actually there was a small group of them, seemingly half asleep being forced along by a cheery dictator. The corners of Harry's mouth twitched. It must be another all too enthusiastic quiddich captain. He tried to pick out each of the players. The lean smiling one at the back, his lanky thinness making him look feather light would definitely be the one with his position -seeker. He wondered which house. He guessed Gryffindor; it probably would not be any of the others.

The small smile hurt though. When he had left, his name had been stripped of everything. His role in quiddich had been removed off all the house cups; it was as if he hadn't existed. In fact if he remembered correctly there was a cup now for Ron and Malfoy; the two that had captured him, an honorary trophy.

His shoulders sagged. He missed quiddich. He missed his broom. He wondered what happened to it. He wondered the same thing about his invisibility cloak. He missed that dreadfully. But his picture album he missed the most. His memories of his parents, Sirius, they were all gone.

He felt on the verge of breaking down but held back the tears.

The memories were painful. All his escapades under that amazing cloak, all the times he had spent in the sky on his broom. All the times he had felt so upset and that album had let him fade into a land of make believe. The album that had showed him that somebody did love him.

A sob escaped. He tried desperately to turn his thoughts. He looked forward and forced himself to take in the details of what he saw instead of what his mind was thinking.

The wards stood barely millimetres in front. He could feel the aura of them almost daring him to get close. They would stun him upon recognition. A tear slid down his cheek as he remembered the day Dumbledore himself had keyed Harry into the wards. It had been some sort of ceremony, along with members from the ministry, reporters, journalists, and of course the staff and students of Hogwarts. Hagrid, Ginny, & Hermione had been the only ones with the decency to look at least a tad upset.

The thought of Ginny brought pain. Dreams of the red-headed child haunted him. He was responsible for her death. If only he had resisted a little longer. If only he hadn't moaned that word. He should have held it in. He should have kept his silence. If he had kept his silence then all those people wouldn't have died. His guilt burned inside. He felt he deserved the pain though and let it fester.

But he at least did deserve some understanding. At least from somebody. In his childish anger he wanted to blame somebody. He bet Ron could not have held up as long as he had. He had tried.

Harry looked bitterly at the ground. The tang of resentment clear across his features. He was also angry. He hated them all. Hated them for not believing him. Sure he had never been able to tell them that he was innocent, that he had not actually killed anybody, but one look at him surely could have told them there was more to it than there seemed. Voldermort had bloody broken him. They should have known that. You can't spend almost an entire year with the person who has fucking wanted to kill you your entire life and not expect to be hurt. Voldermort hated him. 

A small sigh escaped his mouth though. He had matured somewhat and though he blamed them so much, he knew it wasn't really their fault. Resentment at himself for hating them for something that wasn't really their fault built up in his chest. They had thought he had joined Voldermort voluntarily. They should have known better than that. The anger rebuilt. He hadn't done all that. They shouldn't have believed he would have done all that. That stupid binding had been the start of it. He would have to explain it to Dumbledore in his letter. Harry paused. Dumbledore?

Dumbledore should have believed him.

The man had practically said he loved him and yet had taken the evidence in stride and even testified at his bloody trial. But then what could Dumbledore have done? The evidence against him was enormous. But why didn't Dumbledore even ask Harry why he had done it. It was like the old man couldn't face the fact that he had made such a huge mistake, that he had let down the whole of the magical community, that he had trusted a so called 'traitor', Harry Potter, the Recreant.

Nobody had asked his opinion Harry thought sulkily. Nobody had asked him if he had really killed all those people. When he had been forced Veratiserum at the trial? he shivered then sighed, that had been the final ending, by the end of that trial nobody could have possibly believed he was any more innocent than Voldermort himself was. 

Harry berated himself. He had been broken. After the first month his spirit lay in tatters like the blood splatters wherever Voldermort fancied. They didn't understand the amount of control Voldermort had had over him; they didn't understand how Voldermort had crushed his will, humiliated him and moulded his thoughts till he had no more spirit then fucking Wormtail. There was so much more to it than they understood yet on their one-track mind they believed everything shoved in front of them. He mentally growled at the seemingly inset straight-mindedness of the magical community. 

The trial was the worst bit though. Seeing all that hatred and anger, a shudder ran down his back, the memories were quite painful.

* * *

_Harry was bound. Tightly bound. Tears seeped out of the corner of one of his eyes, water and blood mingled together leaving little red snail-trails down his black and blue cheeks, marred with the scars of his fate. _

His wrists were thrust painfully together behind his back; he stood in the defendant's box as he looked out of the angry audience. All faces glared at him, not one look of pity or of anything except pure hatred. Harry flinched under some of the cold faces, fear building up inside.

One of them was going to hurt him again. Whenever someone looked that angry it only meant pain, pain, and more pain. Harry was covering and whispering to himself, I'm sorry, please don't hurt me, I'm sorry.

He looked away.

He looked towards the only faces in the room not glaring at him. Dumbledore and Hermione. Dumbledore had something akin to anger on his face though it was mixed with a terrible disappointment that made Harry's heart ache. It was a sign of care, even if the care was long gone, something that Harry hadn't felt since he had had to leave Hogwarts.

Harry didn't remember anything hurting quite as much. Sure he had felt physical pain, the pain of humiliation, the pain of sexual assault, repetitively, the pain of magic, of curses, but somehow, Harry's confused mind registered, this hurt a lot more. It was the lack of trust on all of their faces.

More tears seeped out of Harry's eyes.

He looked at Hermione; she would not look at him but he could tell that she agreed with the crowd. She just could not face him. This hurt too. Ron held her to his side, an arm around her shoulders as he glared at his former best friend.

A flash hit him. 

* * *

Ron was holding his wand, standing in front of him with a triumphant malicious grin on his face. He was pointing his wand at Harry who was trembling, begging for mercy as he lay shattered on the floor. Bruises wracked his body, blood streaming from a dozen places. "**Crucio**." 

Ron said victoriously, a sneer twisting itself along his lips as Harry convulsed in front of him. Harry remembered a death eater once telling him, you needed the will to cause pain to cast the Cruciatus Curse. Ron wanted to cause Harry pain alright.

* * *

Harry whimpered pathetically, cowering more in his little box. If there was more room he would have curled up in the fetal position and attempted to hide. 

Harry tried to shut off his mind. Legimency was new to him and in his weakened, broken, state, he was in no way strong enough to control it. He did not want it anyway. Who wanted to know the thoughts of everyone that hated them?

Harry dared to look up at the audience and in the back of his mind heard the court case start. Someone was saying something. But Harry didn't care.

He was getting flashes from other peoples minds and was crying openly now.

"No! Please! I'm sorry!"

His shoulders were convulsing and he was panicking, tearing at his bindings. He erupted in bursts of panicked parseltounge as well as some other languages everybody watching had never heard before. Flashes of magical cameras made it worse. His world was turning upside down, inside out, people were torturing him. They all hated him. Hate, pain! More visions of the thoughts of the audience flashed through his mind. It felt like he was feeling the curses they were mentally throwing at him. He was screaming, tearing, shouting...

A flash of flame and his wrist ties were burning as they disappeared and burns appeared on his wrists where they had sat. Then suddenly a spell hit him from behind and he saw black.

Harry came too moments later.

He was tightly bound, kneeling. Wrists tied. Elbows tied, painfully pulled behind his back. Knees tied, ankles tied, and then wrists to ankles. He was also calm and sort of sleepy, peaceful and somewhat oblivious to his surroundings. The legimens flashes were gone but he could not quite see the audiences' faces anyway. He heard a few words.

"Take... Confess... Severus Snape... Brew potion... Truth... Veratiserum..."

On the last word Harry froze. Veratiserum. If they asked they would know everything. The entire humiliation he had endured. Everything he had endured. They would know **everything**.

"No..."

He shakily murmured.

"P-p-p-please no!"

He was trembling now. No not that. Anything but that. He could not stand them knowing. His lethargic mood gone, fear replaced it. He could not stop shivering.

He looked up and saw his former potions master coming towards him. A vial of the dreaded liquid in his hand. Aurors had followed him, Harry guessed they were going to hold him down.

Another flash hit him.

* * *

Snape was confused. Why was Harry shivering? Harry shouldn't be scared of Veratiserum! Harry hadn't taken veratiserum before. Why would he be scared?

* * *

Snape stopped dead in his tracks. Harry looking at him pleading, begging, even as the hating mask over Snape's face covered his shock. Harry Potter had just read his thoughts. An advanced form of Legimency that Snape even had trouble doing. He was nudged by one of the Aurors following him and a familiar sneer covered his face, his familiar mask concealing all else. 

He was oblivious to Harry's silent begging, even as more tears slipped down the shuddering child's face.

The Aurors held Harry down even as he tried to pull away and Snape forced the potion down Harry's throat. Then he walked away, followed by the Aurors his mind misty with confusion.

The questioning started.

Harry's mind fought the potion and it hurt. It hurt so badly. It was twisting his mind, it was tearing at his mental barriers that he had weaved, the ones covering his greatest humiliations, his greatest pain. Harry sobbed inward turmoil showing on his features as he strained, muscles tensing and strained...

"Harry James Potter, is this your name?"

Harry struggled, he would not answer. He would not.

"Y----es"

It hurt trying to resist but he could not let them know.

"Did you Harry James Potter join Voldermort?"

Harry was fighting, fighting, there was a sweet oblivion waiting around the corner. A blissful uncontrolled peace. He could give in to this peace. He did not want to... he did not want to... he couldn't stand them knowing. But the pain, the pain, he was struggling, struggling but he was weak. He could not hold it and suddenly his head was in the clouds and he was oblivious to the world. He answered the question without hesitation.

"Yes"

"Did you Harry James Potter, take the Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

There was silence and Harry heard vague footsteps coming towards him. He felt his sleeve being pulled up and there were amazed gasps as his arm was revealed, only marred by scars, welts and dried blood.

Harry could feel the amazement but his mind was directed to the next question asked of him.

"Where is your Dark Mark?"

"It is on my back."

Harry was picked up and turned and his shirt was lifted, baring his back to the audience. Even in his little world of oblivion he heard their gasps of shock... 

* * *

_**Authors note**: yada ? yada ? yada ? yada ? _

cringes I know it's really vague and confusing and i'm sorry, but... yeah... i promise it will make more sense soon

**Will this be a slash?**  
Probably not, I have too much that I want to do with the story and none of them include slash so far. If slash happens it will, I don't plan for it.

**Harry the Basilisk, 2 animagus forms?**  
Just like Harry received Voldermort's Parseltounge abilities he received a basilisk animagus form as well. Simple. He has 2 forms because he already had his own animagus form and the one he received from Voldermort was a second one. As for what his first one was? I'm not gonna tell you yet so there :P!

**Snape fleeing for his life?**  
I loved that bit :). Anyway Snape's running cause he's realised that he's partly responsible for Harry's predicament. He realising how much Harry has suffered & he's feeling guilty for being the cause of some pain to lily's child. He's not angry at Harry anymore cause he realised that he's suffered & took that as his revenge, so now he's feeling guilty. Bad description but hey.

**TO ALL MY REVIEWERS;** I LOVE YOU ALL!!!, big 'virtual' corny hugs.

**Gilthas**, ? dammit, you can't be different genders! Which gender should I put! You're screwing with my head! :S :P :). ? maybe I'll just change it to a (s)he. Or a She and her He muse? Anyway your not dwarfish? Slightly lost but I'm understanding more. As for liking his animagus form; I love it. I dunno the idea of Harry being a snake appealed to me, & if he can talk to them I thought he might as well be one too. As for his other Animagus form, it's not really bad, well maybe to some people & yeah for what it stands for but I actually love them myself, maybe you can guess. Harry just doesn't like it because of what it stands for, just like he didn't like taking on the basilisk form because it represented Voldermort. Yeah Unhappy Harry, I seem to have a thing for torturing him. Nice to know you think my story is ?spiffy?. I know it is better eh, that's all due to your efforts, be proud. I like it better cause it was longer than the original. You helped me fix the bits I hated. Anyway school sucks and here's the update.  
**Harry-Potter-Rule**, Cool, can't wait to read it :)  
**Lady FoxFire**, I love it too :) Heheh!  
**Gryphnwing**, Thank you :), yeah, Harry's better with some attitude  
**Alive**, hehe, just wait for the rest of the ?other things?  
**HoshiHikari4ever**, hmm I don't plan to kill everybody, anybody who dies will have to be relevant, dunno, no plans as far as that, actually I think I'll kill of a few peops but not many. Only enough to suit the circumstances & to depress Harry? Poor Harry I am a bit evil to him? Ah well. As for slash, I doubt it. However would you like me to kill somebody?  
**Rayvern**, hehe, I was snickering the entire time I wrote that last paragraph, as for your other quesses, read and find out ;)  
**BloodRedSword**, here's de update  
& **Imaginable**, Snow leopards? They're so cute but I already got Harry's form planned. Snape's running cause he's scared, he's just realised that he's actually partly to blame for Harry being innocent and having to live through Azkaban. He's just kinda realising that so much of what's happened to Harry is at least partly his fault and he really doesn't want to face it. He's acting on impulse. Anyway, here's the update

Anyway thanks everybody, readers too, any extra comments/questions email me at **robblywoohotmail.com** or the email address displayed on my profile. 

* * *


	6. Hated

* * *

**_Disclaimer: _**You know what I don't own

* * *

**Recreant  
Chapter 6  
By Robbly**

**

* * *

**

**Beta**: Everybody give **Gilthas** a clap. I've got a permanant beta. I'm so special. Yay! Anyway thank Gil cause it would not be the same without Gil's help :)

**

* * *

**

Harry's conscious mind seemed amused by the crowds reaction, but the drugged euphoria numbed his independence. He felt the silvery shiver as his 'friend' moved.

He heard the surprise of the crowd behind him.

"H-how did y-you r-receive y-your m-m-mark?"

He heard a voice shakily ask him, and the compulsion rose within him, it would not let the truth be contained by the secrecy of flesh. He answered the words streaming out like a waterfall its boundaries suddenly broken.

"He gave me the reasons, I gave in. All my efforts would be futile. I would not let the nightmare occur. I gave in. The dark mark must be taken willingly and I lay before my soon to be 'master' and took it.

* * *

... No. Harry brutally forced the memory out of his mind. Searching for something to direct his attention to he grabbed the parchment, quills and ink sitting to the side of him on the ground. He glared at the parchment unable to stop the images that came unbidden to his mind.

"I was bound..."

Harry groaned and pulled his mind out of the memory again. He had to write the letter dammit. He did not need to relive what had been. No words came to mind and the memory resurfaced.

* * *

I was bound to a stone alter and by the end it was soaking in my blood. I lay there bound to it for a week before I stopped bleeding, blood replenishing potions being the only thing that kept me alive. I was mad for that entire week and by the end I broke my chains in my madness and attempted to kill any who came near. I killed 13 death eaters, and then was subdued. I was to be submissive for my lord. I had to learn it. Submissiveness can outweigh madness, if the lessons are hard enough. But sometimes I think submissiveness is madness in itself. As for the taking of the mark, for those who have never suffered the agony;

Imagine the pain of the cruciatus being enhanced so far that you go periodically mad yet cannot escape to the world of unconsciousness. I begged for death, I was rambling, I sent of fits of wandless magic in my pain, yet within a torturous hell of seven hours it was done. If you have never suffered the cruciatus, pray on whatever good lies in this hell you call life that you never have to."

Harry looked up, he saw Snape and the only thing on Snape's face was pure and utter horror, a mind link appeared in Harry's brain and a slightly insane smile once again twitched his lips

* * *

> Potter's mark took 7 hours? The boy must be lying. I fainted after a minute and was told mine only took 3 minutes total. Lucius' had taken the longest, a time of 10 minutes and he was a wreck by the end of it. 7 hours? Hell I was on the boundary of death for a month. My grandfather saved me. 7 hours? 7 hours? 7 hours and conscious the entire time? Not possible. My mind forgot the pain yet it still haunts me?

* * *

Harry saw his conscious mind was amused, it did not show on his face, the numbing potion once again covered all thoughts. Harry's sanity was indeed questionable yet right now he was submissive to the core. It had been beaten into him. 

Harry's mark was of a snake all too like Nagini. A huge black basilisk. A basilisk with violet eyes shimmering red in the light, creeping out of a skull on the small of his back. Even looking into the eyes of the tattoo was hypnotising.

This tattoo was different though. Harry's mark was terribly unique. His tattoo could move. The snake was like a two dimensional being living on his skin. Harry's master had named it once, Doulau, but Harry didn't quite like the name, it was creepy and impersonal, too impersonal for a snake who lived on his very skin and who would live there for the rest of his life. But who was he to complain? Doulau could move all over Harry's body, preferring to lie curled around his arm, wrist, neck etc. He heard a small hiss in his mind. Pity they can't hear you, he thought, his 'friend' just hissing back.

* * *

UGH! Harry glared at the parchment, with a determined frown he wrote,

"To Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"

How to start, how to start...

* * *

His mind patiently waited, Doulau restlessly writhing on his back silvery cold trails in her wake making Harry shudder. The euphoric passiveness enforced by the truth potion was wearing off but the compulsion was still strong enough. His vision was clear yet the world was? muffled. His mind was fuzzy and he could not think quickly. Still, even through this lethargic-like state of thinking Harry could hear the overwhelming silence in the courtroom.

There was silence in the courtroom. Harry bowed his head, the compulsion waited for the next question.

Slowly but surely the silence broke and with many more questions, the compulsion lessened with each. Harry answered each without hesitation and a strange euphoria came with each time he erupted in more words. It faded though. Harry felt his care receding; he was slipping into the all familiar zone. Each question was answered directly with no extra volunteered information, he answered truthfully without hesitation even after the compulsion wore off, long before the court obviously thought it should.

The last topic they were to question him on was what they had all been waiting for. It was like confirmation for them. Definite proof that he had forsaken them. That he had already said that he had joined Voldermort, that he had taken Voldermort's mark, was irrelevant. This would pretty much determine his fate. Harry however was oblivious to the fact, his head bowed his voice meek, his entire being humble, Harry was the very image of submissiveness. He passively waited their judgement.

"Were at least partly responsible for the Christmas Eve Massacre which resulted in the deaths of 2,756 muggles & purebloods alike, wounding countless others?"

"Yes."

Harry answered without any hesitation though his previous monotone had changed to an obvious tone of regret and was it... self resentment, Severus heard? He had no time to question it as the court room broke out in hostility.

Harry flinched they were not happy and unhappy people were not good for his own well being. Still he retained his subservient stance. His eyes were focused on the floor though a tear seeped out and quickly fell to the floor. Harry showed no other emotion.

A red head at the back stood up and shouted at the top of his voice

"**TRAITOR**! YOU TRAITOROUS **BASTARD**! I **TRUSTED** YOU POTTER!"

He was then restrained by someone next to him but the crowd was started and the enmity was mutual, nobody was going to stop it, especially not on the grounds that such anger was unfounded. They were all shouting at him, hating him. He was cowering taking it in silence. They were barraging him with visions of what they would do to him given half the chance. Harry flinched at each one, being torn up inside, bleeding in a way they would never see. He just wanted to die.

* * *

Tears poured down Harry's cheeks as he yanked his mind away again, The parchment was spotted with tears.

"NO."

then in a whisper,

"no more..."

But it was like the memory has a mind of it's own. He would relive it all.

* * *

They were discussing what to do with him. He was guilty, they were sure of it and so was the crowd. The crowd was glaring at him, oblivious to his pain as they, feeling their own pain, sought revenge. The hollow of Harry's despair consumed his entire attention. He no longer cared. The crowd took this sad impassiveness as further confirmation of his guilt.

They were arguing. A lifetime in Azkaban was too good for him, but he was too lawfully young for the dementor's kiss. They would have to change the laws, yet it could not be done unless...

Harry ignored the noise, time passed, depression erased all knowledge of the world around him. He did not want to hear what they were saying anyway. He tried to zone back in a while later, mildly surprised to find silence teasing his ears. Suddenly a clear voice rang through the court room, backed by a tone of controlled rage.

"Mr Harry James Potter has been found guilty of the following charges:  
1) Joining the Dark Lord  
2) Taking the dark mark  
3) Wilfully endangering the lives of all the students and staff at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry  
4) Wilfully serving Voldermort  
5) Learning and using the dark arts, and illegal magic to intentionally hurt others  
6) Plotting against the Light community  
7) Wilfully attempting to harm and kill civilians  
..."

The man listed more charges and Harry's heart drooped with each one. The crowd was getting more and more boisterous, and angry. Soon they could possibly turn into a mob, surging forward to kill the pitiful object of their loathing.

"Finally, being responsible for the Christmas Eve Massacre, and therefore killing 2,756 innocent civilians."

The man paused waiting for the crowd to quiet down and announced.

"Harry Potter has been sentenced to 7 lifetimes in Azkaban under the highest security possible; his punishment shall be further debated and discussed?"

* * *

Harry's eyes were tightly closed though this did not stop the tears from seeping out. He could not let himself sink back into that depression. The subservient despair sat in the corner of his mind, tempting him to give in, to give himself into the will of others, to not have to face decisions and choices.

* * *

"_Mr Harry James Potter has been found guilty..._

_the words rebounded through his head_

guilty

**guilty**

GUILTY"

* * *

No. Harry repeated to himself. He was innocent and once again had a will, a consciousness and he was not going to let it go that easily. He had a chance to determine his future this time. Not to be coerced into it by his willingness not to be responsible for the deaths of others.

But he was still weak. He was still on the brink of falling back into that black abyss of misery. He didn't know what to do. He growled. He was now used to not having to decide anything. He wasn't supposed to have to decide something like this at any rate.

Okay, well he had decided to stay sane now what was he supposed to do. It wasn't like he could walk up to Hogwarts and ask the house elves for a cookie. He snorted. Good work thinking ahead. He mentally congratulated himself.

He couldn't stay in his basilisk form, it was too dangerous, he would be noticed and Dumbledore's alliance with the centaurs would definitely get him in trouble.

Then there was that darned letter. It lay in front of him. Luckily the words hadn't been smeared by the tears, he brushed them off the almost empty page. He sighed.

He was so weak. The thought made him just want to burn something. He was so weak he couldn't even block a stupid memory out of his mind. It wasn't supposed to be this difficult. Then again he wasn't supposed to want forgiveness for something that wasn't his fault from someone who didn't trust him enough to believe in his innocence. Then why couldn't he walk away? Why couldn't he resign himself to live as a hermit somewhere?

His anger built, the urge to burn something grew. He knew the answer. Because he **cared**. And he would always care. Stupid Potter, always worried about what everyone else thought. Well everybody hates you. That's what everybody thinks. You're dumb, stupid, not to mention evil, you're a traitor oh and you've earned the title Recreant. On top of that you're pathetic and weak. That's what everybody believes and yet you can't accept it enough so you're going to write Dumbledore a 'letter' begging for his forgiveness. You pathetic little twit. You vile, dumb arsed stupid, pathetic, measly, wretched, weak, useless

Suddenly a tree to the side of Harry burst into flame, dark black flame.

Harry looked at it silently. He started trembling and his voice quivered

"No?"

He paused, his eyes begging, he couldn't take this on top of everything else. He looked down at his hands. They looked the same. He pointed his palm at another tree and slowly willed it to burst into flame. Nothing happened.

He sighed with a small smile.

"Thank you."

He couldn't deal with that. He turned his mind to other things.

He would definitely have to write that letter to Dumbledore, but it was getting dark so he would have to start that tomorrow. He would definitely need to find somewhere to sleep though and he was stuck on that account?

"Unless?"

He could take his other form; he doubted they would be unusual to find in the forbidden forest. But he didn't like his second form. It was his own but? It wasn't so much the animal but what the animal symbolised, and what it symbolised was just depressing. I mean who wanted to symbolise death?

It was ironic and depressing. Harry himself was responsible for so many deaths. Not that he had killed heaps and heaps of people, just more that people had died simply because he lived and simply because others wanted to kill him. He hadn't killed them but he might as well have because they died because of him all the same.

He could stay in his animagus form? sleep in it, hunt in it?

It was okay now though, nobody could die because of him any more. He just had to try and not think about it. He smiled softly, that was what he would do. He was just about to shift when some soft words made his heart drop cold.

"Who'ss there? Who causst the sshadow flame? Only one other hass casst it in ssenturiess, and he iss long gone and not welcome here. Who iss there?..."

* * *

**_  
  
Authors note:_** yada ? yada ? yada ? yada ? 

Anybody do Greek? ; )

THANKEE to all my reviewers :) ah I love you all. I'll spare you the corny hugs.  
I'm really sorry but i can't be bothered to answer all my reviews, I promise to answer any next chapter... I'm just a lazy bum. Thanks to all of you :) .

Oh and yeah, to all of you who wanted to know Harry's other animagus form... HEHE! >:D You'll just have to wait, though I added heaps of clues in, it's kinda obvious... :( actually maybe I just think it's obvious but it isn't... I dunno, heheh :D. I promise to tell you soon though. I promise, really.

To everbody reading this, thanks.

robbly

**

* * *

**


	7. Friends

**_

* * *

_**

Disclaimer: You know what I don't own

**Recreant  
Chapter 7  
By Robbly**

_**Beta'd** by **Gilthas**_

_

* * *

_

Harry froze. He started trembling. No, Voldermort was gone. Dead and gone. And Harry was good. Harry couldn't do dark arts such as the 'shadow flame'. He pushed his mind away from the thoughts. What was hissing at him before? Harry looked towards the hissing and waited for a snake to emerge.

"Another dessstructive human."

__

Harry physically jumped as the voice hissed beside his ear.

"Sssscared human?"

The amusement was obvious. Harry slowly turned. A small snake head peered out from a tree its tongue flicking out, tasting the air. It mused.

"You are ssscared yet do not run."

The snake leant out further

"I can tassste your fear human."

It paused,

"Boo!"

The snake suddenly darted forward, catching Harry off guard. Harry jumped and fell back landing on the ground.

"Owch! You ssscared me"

The snake suddenly reared up and hissed, it bared its fangs at Harry

"You are like him! I sssshould have known after that evil flame!"

It hissed again

"Begone before I bite you. Thissss world ssssuffered at hisss handssss and if you are like him it will sssuffer at yourssss. Yet I cannot harm you, i promissssed not to harm hissss desssccendentssss. Begone!"

It was Harry's turn to blink. He hadn't even noticed he had spoken parseltounge

"I'm not evil!"

Harry retorted, but the snake just hissed at him.

"And I am not like him!"

He growled and was getting up about to turn away when th snake hissed,

"You sssay you are not like him. Explain the flame then, human."

Harry turned and froze. A weak voice slipped out of him.

"I'm not evil. I'm not like him. I'm not like him."

The snake gave an snarl, aggravated

"Yet you cannot explain the flame."

Harry's face flushed

"I'm not evil! I didn't let myssself be degradded ssso much by that, that demon to be told by a mere sssnake that I am evil! You don't know what I went through to kill him. You do not have the right to judge me."

Harry's voice was low and cold though anger rippled through. Suddenly the end of branch on which the snake was coiled burst into black flame.

Harry immediately paled and sank slowly to the ground. Sitting there he whispered.

"No, I'm not evil, I'm not evil. I'm not like him! I ssswear I'm not like him. Never like him."

His mumbles became incoherent and though Harry was oblivious the branch stopped burning. He started into oblivion, fear twisting its way into his unfocused eyes. The snake looked at him. The child was not evil, though it would prove a powerful ally, also it was so lost, so scared, it needed a friend. A friendlier voice hissed.

"You lack control human. You couldn't even aim for where I wasss. However power alwaysss drawss me, you have great power. You have hisss power though I do not underssstand how. Let me teach you control human."

The mocking tone calmed Harry somewhat and he slowly refocused, looking straight into the snakes eyes.

"You do not think me evil?"

"You do dark artsss though you do not know how and you hate yourself for it. How could you be evil?"

Harry's tone was sad

"Everyone condemnss me. They do not underssstand yet they judge me. They tell me I am evil and I believe them. But you sssay I am not, and you would teach me to control my evil?"

The snake looked at him.

"I will teach you. Asss for judging you, you have not judged me."

Harry just looked at the snake brow furrowed. Judged me? He looked the snake over. It had a smooth normal snake face with a flickering tongue, which was a dark red, and the snakes eyes were a dark almost black violet. It was long and muscular but smooth with two small strangely shaped lumpy spots on its back but almost perfect besides it. The snake had a certain grace more than the usual grace found in snakes, and its scales were long and a silver white which faded to a dark forest green then quickly to black at the end. They also seemed somewhat... blurry? Harry flinched quickly as the realization hit him. The snake had feathers instead of scales.

"I am judged just asss you. You sstupid humanss sseek to desstroy what they do not undersstand."

Harry just looked at the snake and decided not to ask. Instead he said

"What isss your name?"

"My name iss Anafiel. And yourss human?"

"My name isss Harry."

"I am pleassed to meet you Harry, though in me helping you you agree not to try to kill me, I do not like being burnt."

Harry blushed slightly but shook his head. Anafiel just seemed to give him a teasing smile.

"Hold out your arm Harry."

Harry held out and Anafiel was about to slither onto it when Harry said softly

"Wait there isss sssomeone I would like you to meet."

He called to his 'friend'. 'Doulau there is someone I would have you meet.'

Doulau was currently curled sleeping around Harry's ankle, she slithered up to his arm. 'Speaking of which you need a new name, unless you like Doulau.'

A small hiss greeted Harry's ear answering in the negative shocking Anafiel who looked up at Harry confused.

Harry mentally asked Doulau again, 'How about Khariss.'

A sensual hiss replied, Anafiel showed definite interest,

"I like the name. Who would you have me meet."

Harry nervously hissed out loud tensing as he thought of how Anafiel could react to him carrying Voldermort's mark.

"Kharisss thiss is Anafiel, Anafiel, Kharisss"

Anafiel and Khariss looked at each other, Khariss looking up from Harry's skin Anafiel looking at Harry's arm. Harry was sure Anafiel was shocked yet the graceful snake did not show it, a perfectly curved posture showing only confidence. A hissing reply made Harry relax.

"I will not judge you, though you carry hisss mark. I am pleased to meet you Khariss."

"And you, Anafiel. It isss long sssince I have had any company of my race."

Anafiel proceeded to slither up Harry's arm. The pleasant yet strange tingle caused by the sensation of feathers sliding against skin made the hairs on Harry's arm stand up. Soon the two were hissing away getting acquainted and Harry suddenly felt tired. He leaned against a tree and listened to the sensuous language. Soon he was dozing and didn't notice when the discussion changed from verbal hissing to telepathic hissing.

A little later a tongue flicking in his ear and a voice murmuring in his mind awoke him only to direct him to a little cave where he could shelter for the night. Soon Harry was once again fast asleep curled up amongst a pile of dead leaves with his two companions.

_**

* * *

**_

Authors note: Here we go again :)

**Doulau** - for everybody who didn't know, the greek word Doulau means slave or I enslave depending on how you write in in greek letters. This is just the equivalent english translation. Anyway she's better as Khariss. :)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!  
**Coraline** - yay, obsucurity!  
**Sarahmagic** - ... evil smile.... :D  
**grandadmiralchelli** - Harry joined Voldermort, Harry joined because.... you're gonna find out, he got his will broken, he was involved in that huge massacre in which he destroyed voldermort, ended up in Azkaban for 6 years, is now out and attempting to recover...  
**ShadowedRains** - yay! I was hoping I didn't make it to obvious :) You'll find out soon I promise  
- But Harry's a caring, sharing person :)  
**Gilthas** - I like your tendancy to rant! Anyway greek meaning is above :)  
**HermioneBallerina** - thanks :)

Hehe 2 reviews away from 50! Woot!

* * *


	8. Familiar

"to anyone who knows a writer, never underestimate the power of your encouragement." - Mathew Reilly

**

* * *

**

_**Disclaimer: You know what I don't own**_

**Recreant  
Chapter 8  
By Robbly**

_Beta'd by **Gilthas**_

* * *

_**Authors Note:** Just a short one because I don't want to write it at the end. I know this chapter is very far off the storys track it's just that I was thinking up a history for Anafiel and a place for Harry to go (hint!) and this came up. I promise it's very interesting and quite important and also good reading. Okay how about next chappy we start on what happened to Harry? I'll answer review questions and comments next chappy! Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry about the spacing it stuffs up when I preview it.:S_

* * *

Harry looked over at the scroll on the ground. Anafiel had left it for him, he was sure of that, he just wasn't sure whether he wanted to read it. Reading the title had quickly confirmed his doubts. As he sat still and silent a memory flittered to the front of his mind.

_'You musst trusst me_

_I cannot trust. Not anymore._

Then they had argued. Then,

_'You are not the only one to have caussed death._

The serpents presence remained in his mind, the difference was it was closed off from him. Thoughts blocked, feelings blocked, Harry felt incredibly alone.

It had been so stupid as well.

Anafiel... Such little time and already Harry felt at ease with the serpent. Anafiel knew everything. That was the difference. Anafiel knew what he had done and he hadn't hated Harry for it. He hadn't shown the pity Harry had always hated and yet he had empathized in a way that had made Harry feel more sure and more confident about what he had done than ever before. It was like a secret. It burnt, twisted, writhed inside you until you told someone...

Read it.

Khariss' voice resounded through his mind dragging him out of his thoughts. After a pause Harry sighed and reached for the scroll. He hesitated. Stared at it for a few seconds, then with another sigh unrolled it.

_"THE PERSONAL ACCOUNTS OF **SALAZAR SLYTHERIN"**_

Harry reread the title a few times, and that just confirmed what he had feared. No, the parchment hadn't changed, he was still reading an diary of the most hated founder.

Harry hesitated again as he looked at it, eyes skimming over the expanse of flowing script. Then taking a deep breath he began to read.

_'Of all things I though would result in the destruction of our companionship, admittedly, our love for our familiars was something none could ever hope to foresee. Though my purpose was achieved, the cost disquiets me. I thought I was above the petty envy, above simple jealousy. _

_Was it worth it? My pride says yes, my logic says no, my jealousy... No. No longer shall I listen to the vile temptress. How far have I fallen?_

_It is my fault, there is no mistaking that. Even if he cannot tell me so. Sadly, it will never be Godric's, no matter how hard I wish it so._

_You reader, most likely have no idea of what I speak. I speak of my biggest failing, my final stand. My loss._

_I was one of four. The others were Rowena, Helga, and Godric. We were close. No, beyond close. Our relationships went so far as one could go without marriage or mental bonding. Together, we could do anything._

_The memories that brings. One of the most prominent of our many achievements to me has to be when we did what many thought impossible. We took on the form of an animal. Rowena is a Raven, Helga a Badger, Godric a Griffin and I am a Serpent. We named ourselves Animagi and took on family names after our animals. I have taken Slytherin, Godric: Gryffindor, Rowena: Ravenclaw, Helga: Hufflepuff. The discovery was miraculous though Rowena and Godric in it, drew more pleasure than Helga and I. Funny how they, the more enamored with their forms, chose not to give their house the same animal representative. As for Helga, she was calm and happy with our discover, forever calm and happy._

_However our greatest act, would have to be what I left. What i left._

_Hogwarts I believe they named it. After the wart covered hog that led Godric to the very grounds. He was always hunting something or other._

_We all left our secrets there. Along with presents for our descendants and our equals. I believe I left the most, however mine are best concealed._

_Yet, as great as Hogwarts is, it's greatness cannot compare to the sheer stupidity I showed._

_I am dodging._

_It started with Puros. Puros is a phoenix. A bird of such beauty it cannot be described. Even so Puros exceeded that of its species. Puros had grace exceeding any animal, even that of my treasured serpents. Mix that with luscious plumage, and you have one of the most beautiful creatures to ever exist. Everything about Puros was exquisite, his feathers were pure creamy white speckled with the brightest gold, which faded to a beautiful dark red about three fourths down, before fading to an even deeper shade a the very end. A red I liked to describe as blood by moonlight._

_Puros was the most beautiful thing I have ever known and therefore of course Godric's familiar. How Godric managed to deceive the magnificent creature, I shall never know. Puros should have been mine. It was **I** that found Puros first. **I** found Puros, **I** took h, **I** healed him and **I** nursed him until he lived. Anafiel gave up **my** attentions for **him**. And Puros went to Godric._

_Puros went to **Godric**._

_went to . _

_That was the start._

_How I hated Godric. How I hated him. Actually, I doubt it could even be called Hatred, it was something far worse. The human description? Jealousy._

_That would make most laugh. This cold unfeeling bastard reacting to the most petty of all human weaknesses. What a way to prove that I am actually Human._

_Funny how now this hatred has turned. Funny how my self resentment has blossomed. Funny how even yet I still hold my pride._

_Yes I am bitter, and yes I know it is all my fault._

_All mine._

_Needless to say, with my jealousy, the ever present quarrel between Godric and I erupted in a war horror of hostility and enmity. We had always fought, but never had it been so severe. When I think back, I see the ending as somewhat an anti climax._

_"This is the way the world ends, Not with a bang but a whimper.""_

_My friends words. Words that dismally exemplify my very existence._

_I am sidetracking again._

_I was bitter when Puros left me. I became brooding and silent, shut off from the world. Helga, Rowena, even Godric tried to pull me back, but I was lost. I believe I punched Godric once. But I realise now how pitiful such an act was._

_The whole affair left me somewhat competitive. I felt the need to prove myself again. It was a strange feeling. One I was unused to. I had long before cut myself off from petty emotions, dedicated myself to a life of scholarly pursuit, with only an air of mystery around me, and an aura of self confidence and power. I succeeded too, but let myself out with my friends. Helga, Rowena & Godric provided an outlet for me. One cannot study all their life._

_Ah. If only such a way had stayed, and to think it was all over jealousy._

_We had many fights, Godric & I. They were mostly of my own causing, at least I can admit to that now. But he responded and I take some comfort in the fact it was at least partly not my fault, though it is a tiny part._

_This jealousy and intense rivalry erupted at Hogwarts. It all too soon was transferred to the students, and our houses Griffindor and Slytherin, were constantly mirroring our all too frequent battles._

_Yet, it started with Puros and would end with him too._

_Anafiel was my faithful familiar, Puros was Godric's. Helena had Phedre, a Unicorn & Rowena had Gaireth, a Sphinx. Anafiel though the least remarkable of all our familiars, had the ability to converse with me and for years this had been what I believe had kept my jealousy in check. Until Puros._

_It was in a pitiful, meaningless argument with Godric in which he casually shouted out the boast that his, Helga's and Rowena's would live far beyond Anafiel. Despite my love for him, Anafiel was very much the weakest magically wise of all our familiar's. His only magical talent lay in mind magic, he had a strange ability to get into people's minds, unless they possessed strong mental barriers which he had too much honour to attempt to compromise. Anafiel's strength lay in his intelligence and in his ability to converse with me, mind to mind._

_That made me insanely jealous. With no proper reason at all. We four, would all die one day, but the thought that Anafiel would not live on as the other's familiars would haunted me. I pulled away from all of them, and studied harder and harder to find a way to make Anafiel live on like all the rest. The only solution I found was even more haunting._

_It was dark magic. There were no doubts to that, no confusion in my mind that what I planned was dark as blackest sin. I almost abandoned the idea as soon as I thought of it, but as is human, the idea would not leave my mind so easily._

_Eventually I realised it was not to be. There was no other way to create immortality for another, man, beast or otherwise. But I had become obsessed with the idea. I wanted to find immortality for Anafiel. I needed to find the secret. I did everything I could, but I couldn't find it._

_Previously I had confined myself to my rooms. Taken up living totally in the Southern tower, but I moved into the dungeons. The cold, dank atmosphere suited my disposition perfectly._

_I think I hurt Helga the most. She never said a word yet I could see it in her eyes and almost sense it in the air around her. It is sad how that and only that evokes guilt. However even such guilt could not overcome my monstrous pride and colossal jealousy._

_The idea consumed me, it sat in the back of my mind, taunting me. Likely I seemed mad to those around me yet unfortunately my intelligence and large ability to do and create powerful magic was not affected. Truly, I may have been mad, yet even that is not a great enough excuse._

_At first I continued to teach, however I disturbed my students so much I was forcibly stopped._

_In my madness I created much I wish I never had. Some of the most evil rituals, incantations, callings, spells and potions have stemmed from my hands, in what some would call the most 'brilliant' stage of my life. It was then I created some of the greatest and most powerful uses of magic known to wizard kind yet I regret them all. As one always does, I find pride in such great accomplishments, and in that blooms much self resentment. And now they are known, the world that follows will suffer despite the fault resting on my shoulders. The worst would be three mere spells, surprisingly some of the easiest to both create and form. I call them the Pain, the Controlling and the Death curse. They are wandless and emotion formed and I pray to whatever gods may be that they remain so. If they are made incantation called, I pity the world that finds it so._

_In such a state the thought was worst than ever before. It extended obsession beyond the bindings of description. It reached such a state I no longer knew why I persisted in forgetting it. I was sleepless plagued with nightmares._

_Even so, I was still sane. And in my sanity I continued inventing. I invented a potion I like to call '**"Dreamless Sleep"'** , I will not bore you with explanations of how it works except to say that I developed an immunity to it. It is like any medication one takes too often. The body adapts._

_Through all this my obsession was progressing. Slowly taking over my very sanity. I believe I was mad, though this may simply be my mind attempting to excuse the horrendous lengths I went to to excuse what I did. It is human to attempt to excuse our mistakes and as I proved, I am human._

_Enough excuses._

_Mad or no the knowledge of how to create practical immortality for Anafiel was all I thought about. Soon enough it no longer seemed to dark, it seemed to merely be taking what by all rights should have been mine. So I took it._

_I took Puros._

_After all the research I had done on the runes, the incantations, the rituals needed, all else was easy and soon done. I refuse to say more about it. I have destroyed every record of the magic I can find and I hope to every god in existance that such knowledge never resurfaces._

_Either way I performed the deed. I took Puros and I killed him. I killed him to transfer his burning day ability to Anafiel and therefore create practical immortality for my familiar._

_But dark magic has a will of its own, hence it's other name, wild magic. It took my power and achieved **its** ends, caused chaos and destruction through **its** own wants, not mine. It took Puros and Anafiel and fused them together. What remained was a winged, feathered serpent with two conflicting personalities in its mind._

_My treasured familiar, my only friend, was beyond my help and Puros was dead by my own hand._

_Anafiel was mad. He was no longer a serpent much as he his mind wanted it. He was no longer cold blooded but warm blooded. He was feathered not scaled. And winged instead of earth bound. Is it wrong to say it pushed him into confusion so deep it bordered on insanity? Never. I was wrong._

_Puros was worse. He was no longer an air borne creature nor a symbol of light and hope. He was now condemned to a compromise between the very animalistic symbol of evil and that of good. Puros refused to accept his predicament. He believed he was still the beautiful phoenix he had always been. He refused to accept his state. He would not accept he was winged, feathered, serpent. And so, Puros was mad._

_Two insane entities forced into a mangled body beyond reprise. Both struggling for domination, for control over the horrid creation. It was horrific._

_Anafiel when in control, spent hours looking into a mirror in silence. He no longer recognised me, nor himself. I was only seen as the demon that had condemned him to such a fate. He recognised nothing. He could not recognise himself._

_Then there was where Puros was in control. With Puros in control it was an chaotic struggle. Puros still believed himself to be a phoenix, to have a phoenix's power, one's dimensions etc. Puros would attempt to fly and unable to accept that he was different from how he used to be he would fail miserably. Puros would lie where he was a twist, maniacally, writhing. Pathetically trying to get this creation to do what the body of a phoenix would do. It was a fight. A pure fight against himself._

_Most often neither was in control. It was a fight. Sometimes it was mental, more often physical. Seconds where one would be in control , the next minute, the other. Sometimes both, one pulling one way, the other pulling the other. Other times it would be a mental fight. The mutated serpent lay quietly, sometimes even delicately curled, while expressions of pain, sadness, anger, triumph and everything in between flickered over it's face and blank eyes._

_I was afraid to help. I was afraid I would make it worse. Not that I truly could._

_Finally, after six months after such torture. Anafiel-Puros, had a burning day. It was absolute horror when the struggling Phoenix-Serpent suddenly burst into an ugly black flame screaming black magic._

_I have not listed my reaction to all this. I have never suffered a punishment equal to what i caused. I killed a phoenix, I tortured my familiar, and I have the audacity to list my pains? Never. I am not so petty. No matter what I do, it will always be others who suffer for my mistakes._

_Through this I had locked myself in my dungeons. Confined Anafiel-Puros to a single room. As capable as I am of warding and shielding. It was Helga I could not keep out. She offered forgiveness. She offered support. She offered to leave and never bother me again. It was that I could not take. It was then I let her in and it was then she learnt what I had done._

_Helga has always been above human weakness. Through her tears, through her anger, through her confusion she could not find it in herself to blame me. And somehow, that brought more guilt than anything else._

_However finally some god had deemed Anafiel's suffering enough. Out of such evil came Anafiel. He came in control of the beautiful yet evil, feathered, serpentine, body. Sane in mind & spirit. And Puros' spirit, came reborn in the body of a new phoenix. More beautiful than the old, yet in a different way. The new phoenix did not carry that same innate grace, but in a strange twist of the divine mistress came as a bird of such good that it was the epitome of the light._

_All this time I had locked myself in my dungeons. It had not taken long for Godric & the others to realise it was I who had taken Puros, and when Godric felt the tear of Puros' death they were certain._

_When I finally emerged, to give Godric Fawkes, as I had named the new phoenix he was adamant, as was Rowena. I was to leave._

_Helga I must add had nothing to do with my banishment. My exile was the doing of Godric & Rowena by themselves. She cried and cried and that broke all our hearts. But even as Fawkes bonded with Godric, nothing could ease his pain over Puros. And nothing could make up for what I had done._

_In my youthful arrogance I believed it was Godric's fault. I argued and argued. Told him I had made a mistake as was human. That he had no right to force me away from Hogwarts, the place I had created with them. I told him I had put as much into it as he had, and it was as much mine as his._

_Godric in turn laid his own ultimatum. He agreed. It was as much mine as his, as it was all of ours, however so long as Anafiel, the ultimate reminder of Puros remained. I could never return._

_This I could not allow. I could never kill Anafiel. I could never part with him, not to mention killing him in return for my own sins. I left._

_So here I remain. In my own little castle. Living the rest of my days with Anafiel. I could not bear the loneliness so I have gathered many animals. Magical mostly but a few not. I hope to save a few races from the extinction looming for their kinds. The basement of my castle I have put the last remnants of my magnificent magical potential into. It is a small world in kind. It houses many many many creatures, great and small, evil and good, prey and predator. Call it my penance. My gift to the world in kind. I feel that maybe the animals I have saved will be needed some day, and maybe then my sins can be made up for._

_The rest of my penance lies here in this castle. Research and testing have led to what one day may be an amazing discovery. Maybe if in the future much of our knowledge regarding magic is lost, what I have stored and spent the my last days recording, will be of use. Will forgive my evil deeds._

_I make too much of it. I would have you reader, see I am sorry. Have my futile attempts make up for what I have done. However that is too much to ask, instead I ask you understand. Understand me, understand what I have tried to convey, the simple words, I am sorry._

_Maybe you will use my stored knowledge, maybe you will bring an extinct species back from my world. Maybe you will ease Anafiel's suffering if he still lives. He believes it is his fault. He believes without him, I would have been forgiven, it would have not ended this way. But I would not let him die, I would not kill him. Hence the charm rendering him unable to take his own life. He has never read this, for he does not believe it's contents. Most likely, as you read this he still wallows in his own guilt._

_As we are human we believe that we are everything, but everything, in actuality it is beyond us. Magic, the universe, everything. Everything is bigger than we are. But we are petty. We believe that we are the be all end all of everything. We aren't. But in believing so, we must make it so and so we meddle. Like I. I meddled, I had to believe that I could make things the way I wanted it. All for what? For jealousy. For emerald envy._

_I do not know how to end this. But I cannot truly end what I have started. I cannot return with Anafiel still alive, but truly I cannot kill him. It is unjust for Godric to ask Anafiel pay for my sins but the only true payment would be my death, hence the resulting charm on me forbidding my own suicide._

_Anafiel & I, doomed forever. Unable to take our own, or the other's life. The difference is it was I that doomed us both._

_I cannot save us now. I shall pass soon, and my black presence shall linger in the history books. Anafiel will live on, living his black existence of my own creation._

_Lies or truth, I cann0t change it, nor can I clear my own name. Maybe you reader, will add some light to my black remembrance. Maybe you will save Anafiel. Maybe you will save us all.'_

* * *

**Authors Note:**

William Ernest Henley, 1903, untitled  
_"Out of the night that covers me  
Black as the pit from pole to pole  
I thank **whatever gods may be**  
For my unconquerable soul._

_In the fell clutch of circumstance  
I have not winced or cried aloud  
Under the bludgeoning of chance  
My head is bloody but unbowed._

_Beyond this place of wrath and tears  
Looms but the horror of the shade  
And yet the menace of the years  
Finds and shall find me unafraid._

_It matters not how straight the gait  
How charged with punishments the scroll  
I am the captain of my fate  
I am the master of me soul."_

T.S. Eliot, The Hollow Men.  
Find a copy here: (take out spaces)  
http: www. americanpoems. com/poets/tseliot/1076

* * *


End file.
